


Freedom

by fizzbuzzler



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Dominance, Elf/Human Relationship(s), Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Long-Term Relationship(s), Love Triangles, Multi, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Tension, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-19 03:01:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11888559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzbuzzler/pseuds/fizzbuzzler
Summary: Plays somewhere within the Witcher fandom and does not necessarily follow the books or games. I wanted to know how a witcher with an overly active libido, a human-hating elf and a dominating sorceress can go along. It will be interesting and I have hidden some smut in it as well.Ah - who am I kidding. It will become smut-only pretty soon.„So the elf does have a sex life after all“ - because the sounds she heard were more than easily to identify. Iorveth's gasps and moans made her imagination run wild. The proud and disdainful elf reduced to his basic carnal instincts. It must be quite a sight to behold.





	1. A fight for freedom

The first time she saw them together in a room was in a cramped commando tent with Roche, head of Temeria’s finest and currently on a mission to find a solution to the problem of the Nilfgaardian army that had made camp not five miles from their position. In a rather atypical move that showed his desperation he had conscripted every help he could get - sorceresses, witchers and the Scoia'tael. Or so he had planned - what he ended up with was one sorceress, one witcher and a one-eyed elf whose motivation for joining was a mystery to everyone else. 

Yennefer entered the tent by stooping slightly under the flap which was held up by a helpful guard. She had timed her entrance perfectly - the three men were in the midst of an argument bowed over a bunch of papers and maps on the single small table and when she came in they stopped in their tracks and stared. She could see Roche’s Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. Geralt only lifted one eyebrow at her but she saw the glint in his eyes. Iorveth was the least impressed but he had been the one who stopped mid-sentence at her entrance. She knew then that her choice of dress had been the right one. 

"No need to stop what you are doing boys - I am sure it is rather important…" she checked the map on the table "… to know that a small cavalry division has changed its position by a few hundred yards."

Roche was first to respond and bristled like a hedgehog at her supposed critique of his leadership.  
"If you waltz in here and disturb our meeting I sure hope you have more to say than that and show off your …." he ended with a gesture of his hand that pointed in the general direction of her midsection. 

Geralt was the only one of the three who sensed the danger. He straightened up and took a step back.  
"Yen.." he started "he didn’t mean…" but his further response was stopped by the sorceress who smiled sweetly at Roche.  
"Dear commander, it might have escaped your notice that it was you who asked me for help - not the other way round. I sure as hell have no intentions on being confined to a tent full of books while the three great leaders of this tattered bunch of freedom fighters decide the future of this country."

Roche flinched and his grip on the table edge tightened visibly. Yennefer ignored him and continued.  
"I’ve just finished a conversation with an old friend in Vizima" her eyes swept over the three men "He insisted that you meet with the emperor for negotiations - as soon as possible."

"What! Should we already start discussing our terms of surrender?" Roche spit out. The frustration in his voice didn’t escape her notice. "Who is this 'friend' of yours, anyway?" he continued.  
"You have never mentioned you had a spy in the imperial palace."  
His eyes narrowed slightly. This was information she had never mentioned before so he naturally put his teeth in it and wouldn’t let go. Yennefer sighed.

"I have friends in all the kingdoms - do you think that now that Vizima is under imperial control my friends there have ceased to exist? In this case he is a rather wealthy business man who has decided that the Nilfgaardian empire isn’t as bad as everybody thinks and he took up business with them. He was contacted by the imperial secret service because they knew he still had ties to the North and specifically, to me. However he prefers to remain anonymous. I trust him and that should be enough."  
Her voice had only risen slightly at the last sentence. 

Roche snorted "Are we now to trust traitorous traders who will spread their legs for the one with the largest purse? If you want me to trust this business man of yours I want more than just a retelling of your meeting with him."

Yennefer only lifted her eyebrow and took a parchment from her pocket. She put it on the table - the imperial Nilfgaardian seal clearly visible in the dim candlelight of the tent.

"You really should tell your friend that I never make empty gestures" she said towards Geralt.  
"My friend sent this via teleport - I believe you can guess who it is from."  
She looked at Roche again.  
"I was told in no uncertain terms that this is a one-time invitation - if we do not take it, the army will continue the 'talking'." Yennefer crossed her arms in front of her and waited.

Roche was silent and just looked at the letter as if it could at any second develop teeth and go for his throat. In a way it was - it could end all they had fought for. However it was unlikely the end was on their terms.

"Have you read it?" Roche looked up at Yennefer. She pointed at the letter "It is still sealed, isn’t it?"  
"But you are a sorceress - I am quite certain that you have your means."  
His voice sounded only a bit tired.

"Even if I had - what difference does it make? I would not act on anything without your counsel and consent."  
She heard a slight snort from Geralt’s spot but chose to ignore it.  
"Open it, read it and then we can continue this discussion." She pointed at the letter. "What are you afraid of? I know as well as you do by the way, that our so-called army doesn’t stand a chance against the Nilfgaardians. All we can ever do is guerrilla warfare. But it will not stop the inevitable. I have been to Nilfgaard - the North is a primitive swamp in comparison. Do you really think that keeping independent is helping the people? This war has devastated the landscape and destroyed numerous villages. The death toll not just among the soldiers but also the peasantry…"

Roche stopped her with a thud of his fist on the table that sent some of the papers flying.  
"Are you telling me that you never believed in our fight from the beginning? That you planned that we should submit to the emperor all along? Because that is what this sounds like. It is the lodge all over again." He shouted the last sentence.  
Beside her Geralt shifted and straightened up. Neither he nor Iorveth had said anything until now. 

Iorveth’s sneer showed his contempt "You dh’oine are all the same. You have no sense for dignity or honor. The elves will never stop fighting." 

Yennefer turned towards him "How can you be so blind? Your people in Nilfgaard live in freedom compared to those in the Northern Kingdoms. There are no pogroms or ghettos. The emperor even protects Dol Blathanna. But you here think that living in squalor is a sign of pride?"

His bared teeth were the only sign the elf gave before he took one step towards her and grabbed her throat. But Geralt was just as fast and his hand had the elves wrist in an iron vice.  
"Leave her be." he growled. Yennefer knew she could rely on his protective instinct. But she was certainly no helpless maiden. She made a small incantation and Iorveth’s hand dropped to his side - his muscles all paralyzed. He swore in elvish and would have attacked her for real if not for Geralt, who put a hand on the elf’s chest.  
"Don’t, just don’t."  
It was enough to take Iorveth’s attention from Yennefer. She could tell that something was going on between the two men but she couldn’t put a finger on it. After a few seconds of silently looking at each other, Iorveth took a step back. Geralt looked at Yennefer "What about his arm?"  
He pointed to the elf who stood there cradling his useless arm.

"The spell lasts only for a few minutes. It is a bit like your arm fell asleep. The feeling will come back soon."  
"Don’t try this again." she added, smiling at the elf. The threat was clear.

Yennefer turned back to Roche, who had used the last few minutes to open the letter and read it. He now sat in his chair with his head in his hand and the sheaf of paper in front of him on the table.

"Read it - all of you who don’t know it yet" he said with glance towards Yennefer. 

Iorveth took the letter and silently read through it before handing it to Geralt. When the Witcher had finished he shot a helpless look towards Yennefer.  
"And you agree with that?" he sounded exasperated. "He wants to meet with us in his palace and we are to just walk in and have a nice little chat? This sounds like the trap of all traps."

Roche turned to Yennefer "How long do we have to decide on it? When does your friend want our answer?"

"As soon as possible - the emperor is no patient man after all. But he knows that this is a difficult decision and he gave us two days." 

Roche grunted at that. "How gracious of him."  
He looked at his companions. "I suggest we end this meeting and postpone until tomorrow."  
His hand rubbed across the stubble on his cheek. "Hopefully a good nights sleep will enable us to make the right decision."

With that he dismissed them. It was quite clear that the good nights sleep would not be on his agenda, though. He already started taking some of the other letters and missives on his desk to read.

Yennefer was surprised by the abrupt ending of the meeting. But before she could say anything Geralt had taken her at the elbow and turned her towards the exit. She followed his motion and left in front of him. Outside she stretched and took a deep breath of fresh air. She hadn’t realized how stuffed the atmosphere in the tent had been. And that she meant literally. 

Iorveth was the last to leave the tent. He looked at Geralt and after a small incline of his head walked away.

The sorceress turned towards the Witcher.  
"What do you think of it? You have been awfully quiet in there but I know that you have an opinion on things."  
"You value my opinion above all else, don’t you?"  
He fixated her with his catlike eyes "Before you do whatever you wanted to do in the first place." he added.

"So far my decisions have never proven wrong"  
She immediately regretted that sentence when she saw his expression harden. But she couldn’t just take it back. In a rather desperate move she decided to change the topic.

"You and Iorveth - what was that in the tent?"  
But this only seemed to make it worse. Geralt’s face closed up immediately and not even she could read anything from that emotionless mask. From the frying pan into the fire - it definitely wasn’t her night when it came to choosing a topic of conversation.

With an exasperated sigh she turned away and walked towards her… their tent. There would be no more talking tonight, that was certain. It was likely that he wouldn’t even come to bed but instead spend the night around some fire drinking or meditating in the forest. She wasn’t sure which she preferred. The tension between them had been building over the last few days. Partly it was because they both knew that their situation was rather desperate but none could actually do anything about it. But she also realized that Geralt had become rather closed off as soon as Roche announced Iorveth as their ally.  
She had been surprised at that - Geralt had had a rather friendly attitude towards the Scoia’tael leader in the past. In stark contrast to the hardly veiled hatred Roche had developed for the elf. So she had thought that Geralt would have no problems working together but he had tried to stay away from meetings and plainly refused to go on a reconnaissance mission with the elf. In the end it was Ves who made the trip with Iorveth.  
Geralt’s refusal to work with Iorveth had driven Roche nearly up the next tree and he had some clear and not so nice words regarding his opinion of that. 

But what she had seen tonight in the tent, when Geralt intervened on her behalf she still couldn't place it or put in any context of the witchers behavior in the last days. It was however quite clear to her that whatever was between those two couldn’t continue - not when they had one of the most important decisions regarding their fight to make within the next two days.  
She decided to try another approach and talk to Iorveth. He wasn’t used to her interrogation techniques like Geralt was, so she might have some success there.

The sorceress had to ask several times until someone pointed her to the right direction where Iorveth had made camp. She was surprised to see that it was not a tent but a cave.  
"Old habits die hard it seems" she muttered as she looked at the well hidden entrance. The cave was well away from the main encampment and that made sure that no unintended visitors would show up. The elf couldn’t have found something more fitting to emphasize his distance and otherness from the humans in their tents.

A small rivulet of water flowed from the cave and disappeared after a few yards in the grass. "There must be a small well inside it - rather luxurious" Yen thought as she made her way past the hanging leaves of wild wine and Nostrix. The entrance was just a short tunnel with a sharp bend at the end - she could see the light from a fire shining beyond it. Her careful steps slowed to an immediate halt when she heard the first sounds from the inside.  
She listened and then couldn’t hide a smile.  
"So the elf does have a sex life after all" - because the sounds she heard were more than easily to identify. Iorveth's gasps and moans made her imagination run wild. The proud and disdainful elf reduced to his basic carnal instincts. It must be quite a sight to behold. But before she could take another step towards the sounds she heard another voice - a male voice - give a deep husky growl.  
Iorveth with a man… that was interesting. She couldn’t resist thinking about who would be on top. She had the slight suspicion that it was not the Scoia’tael.  
Yennefer realized that it would be unlikely that the elf would make time to talk to her right now. She decided to try again come morning and turned around to leave him and his lover to their intimate business.  
But she stopped cold when she heard Iorveth’s voice again. It sounded like the elf was coming completely undone when he shouted the name of his lover "Gwynbleidd!"


	2. To go to war... or not?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yen is trying to figure things out. Geralt has no idea how to handle things. Iorveth is not there to do things and the only thing Roche thinks about is war.

She felt as if someone had dragged the ground from beneath her and her breath hitched in her throat. That was Geralt in there. It took all her composure to not turn around immediately und storm into the cave to see for herself.  
But the deep moan she heard next left no doubt - she had heard it herself often enough when Geralt came undone in her arms and was trying to suppress his cry. It was her lover with Iorveth.

She realized that Geralt must know that she was there. Even in the heated passion of a sexual encounter he would still devote part of his being to monitor his surroundings. And he must have heard her steps and smelled her perfume. The only reason why he hadn’t stopped was that he was too far gone and knew she didn’t mean any immediate danger to him. 

But she couldn’t bear the thought to face him - or Iorveth for that matter - right now. She continued outside and went to her tent. It was unlikely that is was any longer ‘their’ tent. Her thoughts went wild and in all kinds of directions at once. She always knew and accepted that they had no exclusive monogamous relationship. When he was on the Path he often used brothels and willing alderman’s daughters to give him some comfort and relief. He had once explained to her that the need for body contact and a soft touch grew with the number of monsters he had slain. That was something she could understand and accept. And he always gave back - his name was spoken in awe in some brothels in the Northern Kingdoms because of his nimble fingers and tongue that combined with his Witcher-typical stamina made him quite the catch for the bed.  
She knew better than anyone. But one thing she hadn’t known that he was into men as well. For a short moment she entertained the thought that this would not be so bad as him being with a woman but no - jealousy was a cruel mistress and she had her in her claws.

Yennefer decided that she could stay not a minute longer in the camp and went to the stable tents. A drowsy stable boy saddled one of the horses for her and she set off towards the Nilfgaardian army. Roche had placed a sentry on the hills nearby to check every little movement and the sorceress decided that this was the best place for her to go. Away from everybody and alone with her thoughts she might even see something of interest for their cause.  
The sentries were more than surprised to see her coming out of the darkness. She asked where the best spot to watch the enemy was - they led her towards a small mound and she sat down behind a few large boulders. The man who had led her there was visible happy when she sent him back to his comrades. 

Below her was the vast stretch of the Nilfgaardian army camp. In the dark the fires seemed to reach beyond the horizon. The muffled noise of thousands of men and horses drifted up to her vantage point. By sheer numbers it was a wonder that their own army hadn’t simply been overrun by now. But they were fighting a guerrilla war. Never openly attacking the enemy and only with quick strikes and retreat. She quietly wondered what the men who stood watch here were thinking. They watched this formidable army all day long and they must know that their fight was in vain. Not even all the Witchers and Scoia’tael in the world could help with that.

She groaned - hell, why did she have to think about Witchers and Elves - now Iorveth’s and Geralt’s voices were back in her head. Their moans seemed even louder in the relative quiet of her sentry post. She bared her teeth and clenched her fist. She heard Iorveth say her lovers name again and hit the rock in front of her with her fist. It hurt. A lot. She cursed silently and decided to return to the camp before she revealed herself. It was very unlikely that she found something of interest out here and the whole trip had been a bad idea in the first place. She scolded herself for following up with it at all. By the gods - she was not the first woman to be scorned. Though maybe the first whose lover rolled in the sheets with a known Elven terrorist and self-declared hater of humankind.  
The short ride back had her steaming in her own dark thoughts. After she had returned the horse she wandered around aimlessly. Finally her steps brought her to her tent. She scoffed and decided to go to bed - there was nothing more she could do that night. Geralt would most likely avoid her like the plague. 

So she was more than surprised when she found him in the tent. Sitting on the floor and meditating of all things. She drew in her breath and stood before him with her hands in her waist. Waiting. Yennefer knew that he was aware of her presence. Just like before in the cave.  
She was tapping her foot on the floor and was seriously considering hitting him with a spell when he finally resurfaced. He stretched his neck and took a deep breath. Then he opened his eyes. Yennefer cursed inwardly. The look from his catlike eyes pinned her to her spot and she could feel the heat pooling between her legs. Why did he always have this effect on her. She only managed her haughty expression and cool voice because of her training as sorceress and dealings with often rather bitchy colleagues when she finally addressed him.  
“Geralt - will you stay here tonight?”  
The question carried so much more meaning and interpretations that she herself wasn’t sure how she had meant it. And Geralt had even less of a clue what she intended. He carefully got up from his knees and stood before her. Before he was even able to say a single word Yennefer put a hand over her eyes and groaned.  
“It doesn’t matter. I just want to go to bed and sleep.”  
With that she turned away and began to remove her jewelry. The slight headache she had carried with her for the last few days had suddenly developed into a rather magnificent migraine. Her temples felt like they were about to explode and she thought she might be sick right there.

"Yen - are you alright?" he began "I mean …" his hand reached out towards her but he dropped it before he touched her. 

She didn’t answer and just removed her clothing with a simple spell - that drove her headache up a notch. She changed into her sleeping dress, which see noticed was one of Geralt’s old shirts and crawled onto her cot covering herself with the blankets and pelts that she had insisted on bringing to the camp. She pulled them over her head to block out any light.

Although she had never expected it she fell asleep almost immediately, despite the pain of her migraine - she didn’t even hear the witcher as he left the tent quietly.

When she woke up the next morning she wondered that she had managed to sleep that long. Carefully she turned around but her head seemed fine. When she looked down she saw a small bowl with some fruit and sweetbread and a cup with a steaming liquid standing on the ground on a small platter. She sniffed the liquid tentatively. It was here favorite tea - made just how she liked it. That was Geralt’s doing. She took a sip and sighed. It was really good. The sweetbread was fresh and still warm inside. Yennefer ate it in one go before turning to the fruit. 

Only after she finished it all she got up. She washed her face in some cold water and started her daily process of looking like a sorceress. This morning however she decided to forego the dress and chose her black leather trousers and tight hunting jacket. Her battle dress as Geralt had once stated when he noticed that she would only wear it when there was trouble ahead.  
Now she would see if he remembered his words.

She left the tent and strode towards the commando tent. Unsurprisingly, Roche was already there. As was Geralt. The only one missing was Iorveth. Yennefer turned to Roche “Good morning. Iorveth not joining us?”  
Roche looked up from his maps “Morning. He is on a reconnaissance mission. Said he wanted to see for himself how the Nilfgaardians are organized before he made a decision on the matter. Can’t blame him for that. He went before sunrise and will be back by tomorrow.”  
While he continued to study the map in front of him Yennefer turned to Geralt, who stood like a statue in the shadow, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his two swords on his back. He was also wearing his full battle dress then. He hadn’t strapped the swords to his back once in the last few days while he was in the camp.  
Yennefer touched him lightly on his arm. “Thanks for the breakfast” she said sincerely. She knew the witcher well enough to know that the breakfast was no lame version an apology. He had really been worried about her. The only time he would care for her like that was when he was either very happy or very worried about her. The first usually happened when they spent some peaceful days together, like in Kaer Morhen, where he had always made breakfast and brought it to her while she was still in bed. The second was when she was severely ill or wounded. He would then go out of his way to care for her day and night without even thinking about himself. Yennefer was fairly sure that this mornings breakfast was not because he was happy.  
If he wanted to apologize to her it would not be with some sweetbread and tea. His apologies tended to be sincere to the extreme and also very rare.  
Geralt looked at her and gave a small nod. “Feeling better.” It was more of a statement and less of a question so she didn’t answer but turned back to Roche.

“Have you made any decision yet?” she inquired. Roche looked at her and his eyes bored into her.

“I think my opinion on the whole thing is quite clear. As is yours from what I can tell.”  
His eyes moved toward Geralt “I am however very interested in your opinion, witcher. You have so far been awfully quiet about the whole thing. Talk.” Roche straightened up and made an encouraging gesture towards Geralt. “The White Wolf must have some valuable insight.”  
Yennefer turned her head sharply towards Roche. The sarcasm in his remark had not been very well hidden.

“Witchers are neutral.” started Geralt which drew a dry laugh from Roche “Ah - I see, that is why you are here in this commando tent on this side of the valley aiding this side of the war.”

Geralt didn’t react to Roche’s statement but continued.  
“However I have already been involved in so much politics that that is no longer something I can claim for myself. I am a witcher and therefore I am here to rid people of monsters. Although in the last few years I have seen more monsters among humans than any other kind. I have started to become involved when I saw how leaders and other people who should know better treated those depending on them. I have seen the pogroms and pyres. I have seen the necrophages devouring corpses in villages destroyed by one army or another. I fought my way through bandits and deserters who wanted to have their share of the war torn lands. I have met both Radovid and Emhyr in person and although Emhyr is a hard and unforgiving leader he is at least sane and is not willing to destroy every non-human or magician just because he harbors a childhood grudge against one sorceress.“  
He stopped there for a few seconds. It was clear he wanted to convey his thoughts in as precise a manner as possible.  
“The order of the eternal fire is hell bent on destroying all knowledge we have accumulated over the last several hundred years. They destroy the living knowledge as well as the written knowledge. The fire of their pyres devours flesh as well as books. And Radovid is accepting if not openly supporting this. I know very well that the times for witchers are drawing to an end. There are fewer monsters and people are no longer willing to hand over their children to us. The school of the Wolf has been extinguished with only a few of us remaining. The Empires civilization will only speed that process up. And I am looking forward to it.”  
“In a way” he added warily.

Roche had quietly listened to the unusual long speech. He snorted “Freedom demands sacrifices.” But he sounded not very convinced by his own statement.  
He looked at Yennefer “Do you agree with him?”

The sorceress thought for a second “I think he is right - for personal reasons I completely agree with his view on Radovid. And his view on neutrality gave me an idea. What if we take a step back and let Emhyr and Radovid alone fight this fight. Their armies are bound to clash at some point. Who said that we should be in the middle of it.”

Roche bristled “That would be the move of a coward. We have declared ourselves to fight for Temeria. To just step back is simply not possible.”

“But we fight for Temeria’s people - not its ruler, whoever that may be.” Yennefer’s input was interrupted by a derisive sneer from Roche “That is a very romantic view on things and it has nothing to do with reality. Who do you think is paying for this - the peasants?” 

“With their taxes - yes, they are the ones paying us.” 

Geralt suddenly turned towards the exit “I think I will leave the two of you to it. You seem to have found some bone to bark and growl over.” With that he left the tent.

Yennefer and Roche looked at each other. “He is right, it is of no use to argue about that." she sighed "If we want to end this we should try to do so with dignity. And not with our heads bowed and shackled on the way to the scaffold.” Roche agreed with a sharp nod.  
“Let us see what Iorveth has to add to all this. Then we will decide.”  
With that the meeting had ended. The moment she left the tent her eyes searched for Geralt. But the witcher was nowhere to be seen. Yennefer went back to her tent. And just like last night he was there. This time he was waiting for her sitting on the cot with his hands between his knees. His swords were leaning on the small chest that contained her personal belongings. 

He looked up when she entered “I need to talk to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry - no smut here today. But maybe tomorrow?


	3. Small revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK - we're getting closer to what is really going on here.  
> There is no actual smut here but talking about it.
> 
> And a WARNING! There is talk about abuse and possible non/con. So be aware.

She sat down on the only chair in the tent and crossed her legs before she motioned him to continue. Her silence was fully intentional. She wanted to hear what he wanted to say in his own words and not her words twisted around and then thrown back at her.

His voice was gruff “You came to the cave. I cold feel you - hear your heartbeat, smell your perfume. You were there at the entrance. Iorveth has no idea about it. I think he might try to kill you, or me or both of us if he knew. He doesn’t like to be seen so vulnerable” a small smile played around the Witcher’s lips.

“Is this about Iorveth now?” her eyebrows rose when she couldn’t restrain herself from commenting.

“He is in this as much as you and I.” Before she could say anything to that he lifted a hand “Although you are in this because of me. I get that.”  
He rubbed his hands over his face. It was perfectly clear that he was extremely uncomfortable and had really no idea how to deal with this but would deal with it nevertheless. It was just what he did as a Witcher. No matter what monster came at you, you assessed it and you dealt with it. 

Yennefer couldn’t deny that she enjoyed seeing him squirming. He deserved that. She had made up her mind about the whole thing. That he was with other women - or men for that matter - when he was away from her on the Path she could live with. That was not the problem because she had had her fair share of lovers when Geralt was not there to take care of her. But she would never do what he had done - go behind his back with an ally or even friend while they shared the same bed. That he had done so with Iorveth of all available men was just the icing on the cake.  
She waited for him to continue.

“It was not the first time. I believe you’ve guessed that much.”  
He looked at her. She said nothing.  
“It was while I thought you were... gone forever. We were in Flotsam trying to agree with Roche on what to do about the king slayer and the traitors. For whatever reason we ended up in bed together. I sincerely have no idea how it happened. But it did… and it happened again. When you came back and Iorveth was gone I thought it was all over. Until I saw him again here. It was still there - whatever ‘it’ was. At first I tried to ignore it - and he did the same. But then came yesterday and when he tried to attack you… I touched him and it all came back. When I left I didn’t even think of going to you. And he was already waiting - he knew it, too.  
And then I felt your presence... I was horrified and relieved at the same time.”  
His yellow eyes bored into hers “It made me come even harder.”

Yennefer swallowed. The heat was back. She cursed her body and the fact that he knew it as well as she did. He was sincere with her - she didn’t even need to read his mind about that.

“How do you think it would have continued if I had not been there? You know very well that I can read your mind.” she shook her head. 

He shrugged “I honestly hadn’t thought that far.” 

“Yes - thinking is not your forte when you are fucking someone. Or was it him fucking you?” she bit out, reveling in the short and cheap triumph of seeing him pulling his head between his shoulders as if she had actually slapped him. 

But it seemed that she had gone too far now. He caught himself and straightened up “Don’t play with me. You were very much enjoying the show then as you are thinking about it now.” 

His eyes glinted “Right now, I could smell you from as far as the other side of the camp.”

She stared at him “But we are not talking about my bodies instinctive reactions, but your very conscious decisions in bedding the bloody leader of the Scoia’tael, for the love of the gods. Besides the fact that the two of you seem to be unable to restrain yourselves, how do you propose to continue with this?”

“Iorveth’s spying trip was my idea. I am going to avoid him as much as possible. Until all of this is over.”

Her look must have betrayed some of her disbelief, because he started wringing his hands. “Listen Yen,… I … Damn it. I cannot… I don’t know how to talk about that. It is not something I do to hurt you. You know I would never do something like that. It is just… he makes me feel things that I have never felt with anyone else.”  
He seemed to realize that he was now on very thin ice, but he nevertheless pushed on “Not even with you. But it is not love - I know that for sure. It is a very strange kind of attraction. I had a few men in my time but Iorveth is different. If it is because he is an elf I don’t know. Or maybe it is because he is an asshole and I need that - no idea.”  
He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it himself.

Yennefer stopped him there “Is he hurting you?” she asked incredulously. The two of them had had their share of rough sex and with a Witcher it could get really rough. That they ended up with bloodied bed linen from bites and scratches was not uncommon, and they both loved some control play, but it was always consensual. 

He looked at her “Do you really think I am into something like that? That I am letting him hurt me when I actually don’t want him to?”

By now she honestly didn’t know what to believe. And she told him so “The two of you could be into knife play and torture, and I wouldn’t be the wiser for it.”

He snorted “Can you imagine torturing Iorveth with a knife for a kick? Do you really think he would let it come near him at all?”

She couldn’t. At least not while she imagined Geralt behind him, his hard cock up to his balls in the elf. Another wave of arousal rolled through her body. She couldn’t have stopped it if her life depended on it. 

She put her hand to her forehead “To hell with this. I want to talk to both of you. About this. About us.”

 

When Iorveth returned the next day, there was however no time to talk about their relationship issues. The Scoia’tael was rather subdued during their meeting. The numbers of soldiers he had seen for himself, and their vastly superior equipment had had their effect on him. 

“As much as it pains me - even a full Scoia’tael commando could only prick that army like a mosquito. We would be squashed without them even thinking twice about it.”  
He looked at the others.  
“This army is something like I have never seen before - like no Aen Seidhe has ever seen before. We should try to talk because we do not stand a chance in a fight.” he closed his eye before he took a deep breath and continued “We need to meet with the emperor.”

Roche had listened to him, and only the deep crease between his brows betrayed his feelings. “So it is just me who is willing to continue our fight? The three of you seem very unified in your decision”

“Please, you must see reason. You can continue your little guerrilla war, but you will have no effect on them whatsoever. If we were to talk to the emperor we might at least get something out of it.” Yennefer pleaded. She hoped that Roche would for once in his life listen to someone else, and not to this misguided sense of honor that had been drilled into him.

“What assurances do we have that we won’t end up in the empires dungeons or straight at the scaffold?”  
He looked at her “I don’t think the emperor is seriously expecting all four of us to show up at his doorstep. That would be suicide.”

“I was given to understand that two of us will suffice. However, one of them has to be you. My friend was quite adamant about that." Yennefer could see the crack in his armor and went on.  
"Whoever is to accompany you is up to us.”  
She waited for a few seconds before continuing “I would suggest it is someone who is willing to compromise, and will neither let the emperor know that humans are scum with every word, nor ignore all kinds of etiquette.”

Iorveth let out a huff beside her “So you have already decided for us - it is you who will join Roche.”  
“Does she always take your decisions for you?” He asked with a glance towards Geralt. 

“The decisions I take are usually sensible ones.” Yennefer bit out towards the elf, and if looks could kill he would have been reduced to a little pile of ash with a bit of red cloth on top. She could hardly restrain herself, or she would have thrown herself at that one-eyed, self-righteous bastard. She shot another look at Geralt who, wisely enough, had decided to remain quiet. 

“Enough!” Roche interrupted them “Any of you two have something meaningful to add, or any real reason why it shouldn’t be the sorceress?” He looked at the two men.  
“No? Thought as much. Very well, Yennefer and I will go to the meeting. I take it that we are to use a portal?”  
Yen nodded “Yes, I will let them know that we will be at the palace in two days time at noon.” 

“Good - we need to agree on a strategy for the talks. Meet me tomorrow morning, we will talk about it then.” With that Roche left the tent - no doubt to cool down, and get his head around the idea of surrendering to the empire, without losing too much of his pride and dignity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the cave it is... wonder what will happen there...


	4. White wolf and mountain lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the smut chapter that I promised from the beginning.  
> I also updated the tags on the story. 
> 
> Have a nice weekend.

Yen was still boiling inside when she turned and looked at the elf. “You - and you” she pointed at Geralt “We need to talk. Now!”

Geralt looked exasperated “What? Here?”  
“No - in the cave. Go ahead, I will join you right away.” With that she left them both standing there in the tent.  
She had to cool down at least a bit before she confronted them together. To be honest she didn’t really know what to say or how to handle the whole thing anymore. Mostly because she had no idea how Iorveth was really involved in this. She could deal with Geralt alright but the Scoia’tael was different.

Finally she made her way to the cave. She swallowed hard when she entered. This could go several ways. She wasn’t sure if she was prepared for any of them.

Inside she was greeted by a sneering Iorveth “So you have seen us. Liked it?” His eye shone with the reflecting light from the fire. So Geralt had told him already. Very well - it saved her time.

“I only heard you - but that was enough. Geralt reduced you to a whimpering mess.” she bit back. It was cheap but right now she didn’t give a damn about that.

Iorveth snarled and started towards her. Again it was Geralt who stopped him. He shot a wary look at Yennefer “If you want to kill each other please do it when I am not here. I don’t want to clean up the mess you’ll make”  
“Also - I believe that you said something about talking. So that we shall do.”

Yennefer put on a haughty expression and crossed her arms in front of her “I want to know why you did it - and that means both of you” her eyes darted from one man to the other. “And I want to know what you intend to do - it is quite clear from Geralt’s behavior that simply stopping is not on the agenda.”

Iorveth looked at her with interest. It seemed that he had prepared himself for an encounter with an enraged and furious sorceress that might have some ideas about shredding him to bits, and what to do with said bits. That she now seemed to behave rather reasonable left him without anything to latch on.

“I like to plough the vatt’ghern - his screams are nice.” came his weak response.

Geralt groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose with his gloved hand. “Not helping.”

Yennefer straightened herself - she had decided what she would do.

“The two of you - undress. Now!” she commanded. By the looks they shot her she could tell that that had been the last thing they expected to hear. “Do it - or should I?” She lifted her hand as if to cast a spell.

“The two of you have been telling me that you enjoy each others moans and screams so I would like to see for myself. Go on - do your worst.”  
With that she sat down on one of the pallets on the cave floor and waited. 

She saw Geralt’s tongue moistening his lips and the glint in his eyes. He started to remove his gauntlets and undo his sword belt before unbuckling his armor.

Iorveth incredulously stared first at him and then at her. “Is this some crazy dhoine thing that you are doing?”  
“Are you really doing everything she tells you to?” he turned to Geralt.  
“Yes - and I recommend that you do, too” came the answer.

Geralt had already shed his armor and tunic and only wore his trousers. After one last look at Yennefer he took two quick steps towards Iorveth, and took the elf’s head in his hands before claiming his mouth with a hard kiss.  
For a second Iorveth was motionless - then he responded in the only way he knew - he attacked.

His hands gripped Geralt’s hips and his thumbs pressed into his bare flesh above the waistband of his trousers. He pulled the Witcher towards him, and opened his lips to let the man’s tongue plunder his mouth before one of his hands wandered up Geralt’s back and gripped the nape of his neck. Iorveth bit hard into the Witcher’s lip and he smiled at the resulting groan. Yen could see that he had drawn blood.

When their lips crushed together for the first time, Yennefer realized that she had stopped breathing. She exhaled shakily. Her lips had parted and somehow she imagined that she could feel the Witcher's lips on hers.  
Her eyes were riveted on the two men who fought for dominance in front of her. Because it was a battle - she had never seen Geralt like this. It was animalistic and she thought she could taste the testosterone in the air. It was clear that this was something he couldn’t do with her - she would never let him. But to see him like this… that was something different altogether.

Geralt had now started to undo Iorveth’s armor and tunic. The elf’s torso showed his rough life as much as the Witcher’s did. He was not as broad or muscular as Geralt but lean and lithe. The tattoo that extended from his neck down his shoulder and sides added an elegance to his already perfectly shaped body. Yennefer was somehow reminded of a strong white wolf and a lean mountain lion when she saw them together. 

Iorveth started moaning as the Witcher moved down his neck along the tattoo. Yen could see the traces his tongue and teeth left on the white skin of the elf. She swallowed, and had to open the collar of her jacket. When had it become so hot in the cave?

It seemed that the two men had forgotten that she was there. Or they were very adept at ignoring her. Geralt continued his way down the elf’s body and knelt down. His hands stilled on the bands that held Iorveth’s trousers. Iorveth licked his lips and took a deep shuddering breath. That seemed to be the sign for Geralt who quickly opened the bindings and pulled the trousers down to the floor. With a swift move the elf stepped out of his boots and trousers and stood finally completely naked in front of the Witcher. 

Yen’s eyes roamed over his body. She felt her breath quicken. The Scoia’tael was already fully erect and he was by no means small. His cock was as long and elegant looking as the rest of his body. It curved slightly upwards and seemed to pulse in the flickering light of the fire.

Geralt began to lightly caress him with his fingers. The elf gave a deep growl which put a light smile on the Witcher’s lips. He looked up to Iorveth, and with one swift move took him into his mouth to the hilt.

Yennefer had to bite on her hand when she saw that Geralt's throat bulged with the hard cock he had swallowed down. But she couldn’t completely suppress her moan. The heat between her legs intensified. That picture was now seared into her brain - she had never seen something more arousing. Her mouth had gone dry, and she pressed one hand between her legs. 

The two men did not show that they had seen or heard her reaction. Iorveth had his head thrown back and his hands in a death grip in Geralt’s hair while his hips bucked to drive his cock into the Witcher’s mouth. He went down his throat with every push. Saliva and pre-cum was gathering on Geralt’s chin and his choked moans seemed to spur the elf on even more. 

After a few minutes Iorveth pulled back “Wait… too quick.” His breath was labored, and he gripped the base of his cock to prevent him from coming too soon. Geralt stood up again. He was still wearing his trousers but the bulge in their front was unmissable. He started to bite and nibble at the elf’s nipples which resulted in a few sharp intakes of breath. Iorveth pulled him up again and this time he attacked the other man’s mouth. He bit and sucked on his lips and then made his way across the Witcher’s cheek to lick along his earlobe. Geralt’s hands moved up and down the elf’s back before he grabbed his ass and pulled his hips towards him. When his still clothed cock made contact with the elf’s erection he his breath hitched and with a low groan he began to rut against him. Iorveth smiled and sucked hard on the other man’s neck before his hands began to open the Witcher’s trousers.  
With one quick move, that Yennefer didn’t even really see, he brought them both down to the ground before completely undressing Geralt. He then proceeded to move down the Witcher’s body, all the while licking and biting at his skin. When he came to some scars Geralt would inhale sharply through clenched teeth and moan with what was clearly pain, but he never stopped the elf. 

When Iorveth reached the other man’s already fully hard member he didn’t touch it but continued down his legs. With a quick tap he made Geralt turn over. “On your knees” his voice was rough.  
From a small bag near the fire he produced a little bottle. 

Yennefer was riveted - she couldn’t have looked away even if a bomb had exploded beside her. Between her legs her hand had started to move and rub. She didn’t care anymore if they heard her moaning. 

The elf put a few drops of oil on his fingers and between Geralt’s ass cheeks. He then started to finger the Witcher’s tight hole. His body covered the other man’s completely and his weight made Geralt drop to his elbows. He said something in the Witcher’s ear that Yen couldn’t understand but it made Geralt’s whole body shiver.

And without any further preparation he positioned his cock at Geralt’s entrance, and then pushed forward in one swift and powerful move. Yennefer’s lover screamed like she had never heard him scream before when he was breached. She stopped breathing and her hands stilled on her body. She saw his profile as he threw back his head and arched his back. The tendons on his neck stood out, and he had closed his eyes while a rasping groan escaped his lips. He looked completely gone.

Iorveth waited a few seconds before he started moving. He bared his teeth as his deep thrusts shoved him into the Witcher up to his balls. His fingers were in a death grip around the other man’s hips, and he set a punishing pace. Geralt started to whine. His cock was rock hard and leaked pre-cum on the floor. But the elf still did not touch him. When Geralt tried to move his own hand to his cock to get some relief the elf grabbed his arm and bent it in a brutal angle onto his back. "You will come from my cock in your ass and not from anything else" he hissed.

Yennefer realized that the elf had changed the angle of his thrusts when Geralt suddenly started to buck with every other shove. Iorveth hit his prostate with unfailing precision. His hips started to move faster but he still pulled his cock out has far as he could with every thrust. His hand moved from holding Geralt's arm on his back around his torso until he reached his nipples. The elf twisted hard and Geralt screamed again. Then the hand moved into the Witcher’s hair. With a brutal grip that bent him at a near impossible angle the elf pulled Geralt’s head back. He lowered his mouth to his ear. “Come. Now.”  
It was said loud enough that Yen could hear it and the result was immediate.  
With a shout and a groan her lover spilled on the floor. His cock twitched and spurted rope on rope of white, milky seed. It seemed that his orgasm lasted for ages and he took Iorveth with him. The elf started thrusting erratically, and he lowered his head to the Witcher’s back and buried his teeth in the flesh of his shoulder when he came.

Finally Geralt was completely spent and collapsed to the ground under the other man’s weight. They both remained there unmoving, and all that Yen could hear was their labored breathing.  
She was breathing hard herself. Seeing Geralt come without ever being touched had been enough to tip her over the edge as well. 

Iorveth moved first and stood up to walk over to a small table. He took a washcloth and started cleaning himself before he started to pull on his trousers.

Geralt was still lying on the floor and his body trembled with the occasional shiver. His eyes were only half-open and he stared unseeing straight ahead.

Yen went over to him and touched his shoulder lightly - his skin was hot and he was covered in sweat. His breath came shallow and fast. Incredulously Yen stared at Iorveth who looked at her without any particular expression on his face. It was as if the last minutes had never existed.  
“Is he always like this afterwards?” she shot a hard look at the elf. He shrugged “Usually I just leave him alone for a while, and when I come back he is gone.”  
She couldn’t believe what she had just heard “Is that how elves treat their lovers? Throw them away after using them just like you did with that washcloth?” she pointed over to the table.

Iorveth stopped pulling his shirt over his head. He looked at Geralt and came closer. He knelt down beside him and touched his face. 

“We are not a soulless people. We care deeply about those we hold dear.” he muttered.  
“He told me he could take it - that he is a witcher and that he can take it. I always thought he just needed a few minutes to get back to himself and preferred to be alone.” 

“What he says he needs and what he actually needs are two different things. He can take it, yes. But it is wrong to assume that your part ends with you spending yourself into him.”

Iorveth touched his fingertips softly to Geralt’s face and pushed a few strands of hair away. He then seemed to reach a decision. He moved behind the Witcher and lay down. With one hand he pulled him closer to himself and with the other he pulled a blanket over them.

Yennefer could tell that it had an immediate effect on Geralt. His breathing became slower and more even. His eyes finally closed and the shivering stopped.  
She got up and made for the exit. The last thing she saw was Iorveth with his eye closed behind Geralt and slowly stroking down the Witcher’s side with his free hand.

She went to her tent and began sorting through the papers on her table. She didn't actually see what she was doing but she needed something to busy her hands.

What she had just seen… she could understand a part of it. It seemed that there were things that she couldn’t provide and so Geralt had found them elsewhere. She realized that although she liked plays of power and submission in bed herself she would never be able to do it to the level she had just seen. There was no way that she could imitate the raw physical strength that the elf had used on her lover. Not even with a spell. The ultimate submission of the Witcher, the forceful dominance that was second nature to Iorveth was something she would never be able to achieve.

Geralt had sought that dominance and found it in the Scoia’tael. Unfortunately nobody had told the elf that the dominance was only one part of their relationship. And from his reaction she could tell that it had not been his intention at all to neglect his lover, and let him deal with the aftermath alone. 

It also explained Geralt’s strained behavior during the last couple of days. He was used to fight simple fights with monsters - but his deepest cravings and wishes were a bit more complicated. Using the simple Witcher method - kill, collect reward, move on - did not work in that case. 

That night when she finally went to bed, the last thing she saw before she fell asleep was Iorveth behind his lover, sunk deep into the body before him, one hand clutching a handful of hair. But this time the hair was not the white of Geralt’s but the black of her mane and with her back arched she cried her release to the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK - all the cards are on the table. How will they manage their triangle? And will Roche do anything else than just bitch around and serve as a plot device?  
> We will see...


	5. A life of pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are quite a few things to talk about after what happened the last time. And a bit of smut, obviously.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

When she woke up she felt a body at her side. She turned, and saw Geralt lying there - his head on his arm, watching her. His yellow pupils stared unwavering into her purple ones. She reached up and let her fingers run lightly across the scar on his cheek. He hummed.  
“How do you feel?” She asked. In truth she wanted to ask so much more but it seemed a good start, and a rather innocent one at that.  
He turned onto his back and stared at the slating canvas roof of the tent. “Right now I don’t know how to feel. How do YOU feel after what you saw yesterday?” His voice was still rough from sleep and he didn’t look at her. He just waited.  
Yen reached over and took his hand in hers. She squeezed lightly “I think, I have learned a few things about you yesterday that I had no idea about before.”  
“And what would that be? That I can come without being touched? That I crave pain?” There was only the slightest hint of insecurity in his voice at the last question. It was clear that he was not sure at all how she would react to this kink of his. 

“According to lore you are supposed to have no emotions at all - but you prove it wrong every single day, by being capable of harboring some of the deepest emotions known to men. You don’t show it very often, but I can see it. You have been created to be an emotionless monster killer that feels no pain or exhaustion. Your mutations exceed everything that has ever been done to any other Witcher. And still you are human - you are no soulless killing machine.  
Your whole life and training, pain was a fixed constant - like the earth moves around the sun. It did change you - you learned to gain pleasure from pain. Your body and mind have adapted to the horrors you were subjugated through the trials.”  
She squeezed his hand again. He had been completely still during her speech. Now he took a deep breath. 

“There are those who see me as weak, and I’ve been called quite a lot of not so nice names because I submit to others and let them do what they want with me.” His voice was calm and collected, but she could sense the emotion that lay behind. “I made a few bad decisions as a youth when I first discovered what I like. Compared to them, Iorveth is an angel.” he continued.

Yen snorted “You - weak? Have those people actually seen you outside of a bed chamber? Did they know what and who you were? Calling you weak would mean call the lava in a volcano tepid.” Now he squeezed her fingers and smiled. “As I said, I was much younger and had no experience in life whatsoever.”

Yennefer sat up and looked down at him “Before Iorveth - was there anyone else since we’ve known each other?” She had to ask that question.

Geralt looked at her “I have been to a few specialized brothels here and there. But before I met Iorveth I always had to pay for those services, and that means that there are usually no questions asked.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t need to feel pain all the time, but the craving builds up until I cannot think straight anymore, and I need to find someone to fulfill it. And unfortunately a Nekker claw to the guts doesn’t do the trick.”

Yennefer smiled at the last sentence “I think if that would help, you could save quite a lot of money.”  
In a more serious tone she continued “From what I have seen, I cannot really condemn you. Because the desire to be dominated and feel pain in you is as strong as the rest of you. As much as I would prefer not to, but I have to admit that I am not the person who is able to fulfill these cravings. What Iorveth did to you would have ripped a normal man apart, and at least break bones, if not outright kill someone who is not a Witcher.” She paused before continuing quietly “He told me that you forced him to be this brutal, and that he hesitated at first.”

Geralt only grunted “I had to beat him up to make him lose his constraints. When he finally gave in, it felt as if he had unleashed at least a hundred years worth of hatred and despair. It took me several days to recover after he had left me.”

Yen shivered, imagining what the elf must have done to the Witcher that it took Geralt days instead of mere hours to heal, and she didn’t really know what to say to that. She was deeply shocked that Geralt had just simply accepted that he would have to deal with it alone. “I have spoken to Iorveth and told him that he cannot just leave you behind like a used rag. That it is his responsibility to make sure that you come back out of it.” 

Geralt looked at her “So that's why I found him lying by my side last night, when I woke up.” He closed his eyes “He had never done something like that before, but I guess I needed it.”

Yennefer remained silent after that, deep in her own thoughts. So when she was suddenly gripped and pulled back down, it took her a while before she realized that a very hungry Witcher was on top of her. He nipped along her jaw before he went for her lips. His tongue drove into her mouth, taking her breath away. She could feel that he was already hard when he ground his hips into hers. With one swift move he pulled her shirt over her head, and started to knead her breasts in his calloused hands. Although taken completely by surprise, Yen’s body knew what was expected of it. And while she was still coming to terms with the sudden attack, she arched her back, and a low moan escaped her mouth.  
Geralt didn’t give her a break or let her react in any other way, but he claimed her with all his being. He went down on her body, and his tongue between her folds and his fingers that entered her made her want more. He laved slow strokes all along her wetness and lightly sucked at her clit. She had to grab the bedsheets with her hands because she couldn’t reach anything else.  
He started pumping two fingers in and out of her, while still using this incredible tongue of his to torment her, and drive her higher and higher. When he saw that she would be coming any moment now, he moved back up to her and started sucking on her nipples while his hands roamed over her body but never between her legs. He completely ignored her frustrated mewls, and only smiled wickedly when he tickled the side of her breast with his stubble. When she thought she couldn’t stand it anymore, he was suddenly bearing down on her, and with one powerful thrust he buried his cock in her. Her breath hitched and a small scream left her mouth as she was suddenly stretched to her limits. Again, he did not wait for her, but started thrusting immediately. Shallow at first, and then he changed to a deep and slow rhythm that gave her time to catch up with him. She lifted her legs to his hips to take him even deeper. His head was buried at her shoulder and he lightly bit her neck, moaning.  
Suddenly he pulled out of her, and with one quick move he turned her onto her belly. Pulling her up by her hips, he immediately entered her again. Yen bit into the pillow to silence her groans.  
His hands gripped her waist so hard that there definitely would be markings for the next few days. He sped up, and she recognized the signs of his impending orgasm. Suddenly she felt his fingers on her clit, rubbing and smearing her juices into it. Yen bucked up at him and came with a scream that was muffled by the pillow. She felt him twitch inside her, and heard his hoarse shout when he finally came and spilled himself into her.  
He continued for a few more thrusts before he pulled out of her and fell onto the bed. She scooted back a bit, and nestled into his chest. His arm pulled her even closer. 

They both enjoyed the afterglow and Yen felt that Geralt drifted off into a light sleep. She herself had too many thoughts coursing through her brain to fall sleep, though. 

Somehow she knew that the Witcher had felt the need to reclaim her, and to make sure that she knew that he was still hers. The marks on her neck and hips would be rather prominent witnesses to that. Quietly she got up and prepared for the day. When she left the tent to meet the commander, Geralt was still asleep. 

 

Her meeting with Roche went as smooth as a meeting with the man could ever be. It was clear that he had finally come to terms with their situation. So he only had a few choice remarks regarding her high-collared dress, but did not intervene when she laid out her plans for the meeting. All in all, it was a rather civil discussion and they ended by parting after a few hours, satisfied that they had planned as much ahead as possible.

She returned to her tent to find it empty. A note on the table let her know that a few drowners had been spotted near the river, where their troops were getting their water from, and that Geralt would go and deal with them. She decided to use the time and started writing letters to a few choice friends in Nilfgaard, who might be able to help with the negotiations that were sure to follow their meeting with the emperor. 

The late-afternoon sun found her sitting at her table and studying her papers, when she heard a polite cough. Turning around she saw the telltale silhouette of the elf in the entrance. 

She just looked at him. ‘Let’s see what you have to say’ she thought to herself. Iorveth stalked into the tent, taking her silence as permission to enter. He looked around, and because he couldn’t find anywhere else to sit, made for the bed. He had left his bow and quiver behind, and only wore a short sword strapped to his belt. He turned slightly to watch her from his good eye. In the dim light of the tent it shone as green as a forest in spring. 

“I came to thank you…” he began, his low voice without any of the usual malice “… and to apologize.” 

Yen only tilted her head slightly. 

“I cherish Gwynbleidd, more than any other man - elf or human” he couldn’t hide his disdain at the last word. “He has been a friend to me and my people, and I would not want any harm befall him. Let alone that I should be the cause for that harm. So I thank you that you showed me where I failed him, and how to ensure that I would never do so again.” He had leant forward and put his elbows on his knees wringing his hands.  
“And I need to apologize, because I did not respect your relationship with the Vatt’ghern.” 

Yennefer could tell that he had thought long and hard about the words he wanted to say. Her initial hatred and fury at the elf had cooled down considerably. And his words only proved to her that he had acted without malice. In a way he was as broken as they all were. He just hid it very successful behind his hate and contempt for everyone who wasn’t an elf.  
However, she was not fooled into thinking that there was a soft and gooey core behind his steely appearance. The elf was ruthless and a killer. He would never succumb to anything resembling a loving relationship. Iorveth demanded the submission of his partner, and there was no way around it. That he had hesitated at first with Geralt just showed that he saw a friend in the Witcher, and that he did not want to hurt him or their friendship. When he was granted permission to subdue the other man, he did so with all his considerable power. The fact that Geralt hadn't made it easy for him, had just added to the thrill for both of them. 

A shadow fell into the tent - with two telltale swords behind his back. Yen could smell the drowner blood on him, and wrinkled her nose. 

“Just about to find a bath” Geralt knew that she abhorred the stink of monsters on him. “You were having a chat?” He asked curiously, while removing his swords and rummaging through his packs, until he found a piece of soap. 

“I came to thank Yennefer, and to apologize to her” Iorveth answered. He looked from Geralt to the sorceress “She has not yet decided if she will accept it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK - we're nearing the end. I guess one or two more chapters and this story will find it's end.


	6. Finding release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter - and the big threesome is coming.

Yennefer swallowed, as she was scrutinized by both men. Yellow and green - their eyes seemed to shine in the fading light of the sun.   
“I need to talk to Geralt first.” she finally said. Iorveth only lifted his eyebrow and made to leave the tent without another comment. When he passed Geralt, she could see that his fingers lightly touched the Witcher’s hand. He was out through the flap before the other could react.  
“What is it?” Geralt asked turning towards her, soap still in his hand.   
“We will have to find a way to make this work, the three of us. I will not be kept on the outside, just watching what he does to you and waiting that you come back to me.” she looked at him. “We will tell him together - after you’ve washed that disgusting drowner slime from you.” she pointed at the soap. 

He smiled and a very familiar glint rose in his eyes. “Couldn’t agree more.” And with that he turned around and left.

When he came back, he was only wearing his trousers and his hair was still wet and dripping. The cold evening air had caused goose bumps on his skin and he stood in the entrance waiting for her. Yen had used the time and put on the one dress that he liked most. It was deeply cut nearly to her navel and, most importantly, could be removed by loosening just one strap at her back. She also hadn’t bothered with any undergarments.   
She could see the hunger in his eyes as he stalked slowly towards her. He pulled her to him and she shivered as his cold skin touched hers. The fingers of his left hand slowly moved into her hair and his lips started moving along her jaw. She grabbed his head in both her hands and pulled him up to crush her lips on his. His hum was clearly amused. “Learned something from Iorveth, haven’t you?” He whispered huskily into her ear when she had released him. She took a step back “Speaking of the devil - we are due to pay him a visit.” With that she moved around Geralt and left the tent. She had to get out into the fresh air or she wasn’t sure that they would ever leave the tent at all.   
Quietly they walked towards the cave. Their hands brushing each other occasionally. Before they entered, Geralt stopped her and took her hands in his. “Thank you.” He didn’t say anything else and he needn’t to. 

When they turned the corner to the main cave the elf was waiting. He was still wearing his full body armor and looked rather menacing. The effect was clearly intended. Geralt hadn’t bothered with a shirt and was still naked to the waist. 

Yen stepped ahead and the Scoia’tael’s eye raked over her. She could see the sudden hunger in his face.   
“So this is how it is gonna be?” Iorveth couldn’t hide his sneer. “You will be watching every time I take my pleasure from your lover?” She could feel Geralt stiffen at her side “Who said anything about watching?” she asked haughtily. If the elf wanted to play it this way - she was fine with it.

“I want you to take me - in front of his eyes, before you even touch him” she continued. “If you are still able, you can then have him” 

Iorveth slowly walked over until he stood within a few inches of her. His good eye stared down at her and the heat in it made her shiver. He lifted his hand when a growl from the side where Geralt stood, stopped him.

“What is the matter Gwynnbleidd? Don’t like it? But that is what she wants… and you always do what she tells you, don’t you?” he said in a low voice, teasing the Witcher. 

But Geralt didn’t move, he just stood there, fists at his side and his eyes shot bolts in their direction. 

Yen’s breath hitched in anticipation as the Scoia’tael slowly lowered his head to hers, and he lifted her chin with a light touch of his hand. Then he kissed her.  
It was so different from when she had seen him with Geralt that she didn’t even know how to react. His lips were soft and his tongue only touched hers lightly instead of forcing itself into her mouth. She had brought up her hands to his chest to steady herself against the expected onslaught but there was none. So her fingers gripped his armor instead and she opened her lips willingly. His tongue darted in and started playing with hers. She moaned. He then moved away from her mouth and started to suck lightly on her earlobe and the soft skin underneath. Her knees buckled then, and she had to hold on to him. 

“You taste amazing, sorceress.” he hummed and his hands moved down her back to her hips. He let them rest there and didn’t apply any pressure. 

He moved to her other ear and repeated the licking and sucking before he went down her neck along the naked skin of her shoulder. Yen looked up at the roof of the cave and let out a string of moans. He used his lips, his tongue, his teeth and she closed her eyes and could feel the heat pool between her legs.

Suddenly the warm feeling of his body pressing into her was gone. She opened her eyes and looked for him. He was standing with his back to her, his arms crossed and he looked at the Witcher. Geralt was standing in the shadows, legs spread slightly apart. His breath came hard between his clenched teeth. 

Yen only heard the smile in the elf’s voice “Are you enjoying the show? Your sorceress is quite the catch, I must admit.” With that he turned around again and beckoned for her to come to him. He then stood behind her. With one hand he loosened the strap that held her dress together. The other slipped the fabric off her shoulders. With a silent whoosh the dress dropped and fell in a silken heap on the floor. She could see Geralt swallowing hard, his hands alternatively clenching into fists and releasing.  
Also the bulge in the front of his trousers was more than visible. He must be uncomfortable but he didn’t move to change that.

Yen then felt the elf stepping closer behind her - still wearing his full armor. His hands started sliding lightly along her shoulders and down her arms before moving back up and then dropping down her front. He cupped her breasts and when his thumbs rubbed lightly across her nipples she leaned her head back into him and groaned wantonly. She could feel Geralt’s eyes on her body like a second pair of hands and the heat between her legs intensified.

When Iorveth finally moved on from her breasts, and dipped a first finger between her legs, she could hear his sharp intake of breath. His lips were back at her neck and lightly nibbled at her skin.  
“Wet like a bitch in heat.” he commented towards the Witcher. Yen only moaned again, and her hands gripped Iorveth’s arm to make sure his fingers stayed were the were. She needed more stimulation and he was so close to her clit.  
His fingers finally parted her lips and started stroking along the wet folds. Every now and then he would lightly touch the bunch of nerves at the end and she would buck into his hand. His other hand was still stroking lightly along her body and when his fingers slid across the skin at the side of her breast her breath hitched and she let out a quiet squeal. He chuckled into her hair and continued his light touches which tormented her more than a hot iron would have.

Finally he turned her around and let her sink to her knees. He undid his armor and finally stepped out of his clothes. She got a good look at him. Like the first time she was reminded of a sleek cat prowling the jungle when he stalked over to her. His cock was hard and bobbed slightly in front of him. She couldn't take her eyes from it, and when she felt Iorveth’s hands in her hair she willingly opened her mouth and swallowed the head, twirling her tongue around it. He let her set the pace and didn't force himself down her throat. She quickly found the right spots to make Iorveth moan loudly and after a few minutes he pulled away from her, his breath coming hard and fast.  
He sank down to the floor and his body pushed her to the ground. She could feel him positioning himself but before he sank into her he looked over to the side.   
Yen had nearly forgotten that Geralt was still there. The elf waited a few seconds and then he entered her with one smooth push. Yen groaned. He felt so different from Geralt. When he started thrusting into her, she grabbed his shoulders, and her nails dug into his flesh. She could feel his fingers finding a way between them to her clit, and he started rubbing it. Her orgasm built steadily, and she threw her head back, breathing hard and encouraging the man on top of her with her moans. He began to push even harder, and she felt him piston in and out of her wet heat. The friction from his cock driving her on, and when he found the spot of nerves inside her she screamed, and he changed his angle so he could hit it every time. With a shout he finally came, and it took only a few more thrusts, and she went after him. His body convulsed on top of her, and he stilled with one last shudder lying heavily on her.   
Yen tried to catch her breath through the aftershocks of her orgasm. It took her a while to come back to reality. By then Iorveth had started to stir as well. With a wet sound he pulled his cock from her. He was still half hard and the reason for that stood across the fire, Yen realized. She looked up and drew in a sharp breath. Her lover looked like he was tormented by a whole army of wraiths and his eyes shone unnaturally in the flickering fire. However she could see a wet spot on the front of his trousers, and the sheen of sweat on his skin. He had come by just watching them. And, like the elf he was already half hard again by the size of his bulge.

Yen silently watched as Iorveth got up from the ground and towered above her. He slowly looked from her over to where Geralt stood. He then motioned to Yen “Looks like your Witcher is ready. Help him out of his clothes.”   
Carefully Yen got up and walked over to her lover, she knew that he could see and smell the elf’s seed and her own juices that seeped down her thighs. When she had reached him she undid the bindings of his trousers and pulled them down. He stepped out of them and stopped her when she wanted to get up and back to Iorveth. His hand gripped her hair and it was clear what he wanted. Just as before with the elf she opened her mouth and took him in. But that is were similarities ended. Geralt forced himself deep into her mouth until he hit the back of her throat and she started gagging. She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing through her nose. He began to thrust into her mouth, and forced his cock down her throat. Her eyes began to water and saliva dripped down her chin but she didn’t try to stop him. She let him use her.

She hadn’t heard Iorveth come over, so when she opened her eyes she was surprised to see him stand close to them. He took one more step towards Geralt and took his head in his hands and kissed him hard. The Witcher moaned into his mouth and his thrusts into Yen’s throat faltered before he caught himself. 

Iorveth then loosened Geralt’s grip in Yen’s hair, and put a hand around his throat. He pushed the other man back until his back hit the wall of the cave. “I never gave you permission to do that.” he growled and bit the soft skin between the Witcher’s neck and shoulder. Geralt tried to fight back but the Scoia’tael only tightened the grip around the his throat. Yen could see that the Geralt couldn’t breath properly and his movements became uncoordinated.   
Before he could fall unconscious the elf let go and turned him quickly around so that Geralt’s front was pressed against the rough rock surface. He moaned and Yen saw that he was still half under. 

Iorveth pulled him away from the rock and pushed him back towards the centre of the cave. “You wanted to have her? She is yours - take her.” With that he tripped the witcher so that the man landed hard on his knees in front of Yen. She reached out her hands to him and took his face into them. His eyes were hooded and a strange fire burned in them. This was not the man she knew but the dark part of him that had somehow reached the surface.   
She lay down, ready to take him and to make him feel himself again. Behind him Iorveth got down on his knees as well. He had a small bottle in his hand and poured a liberal measure of oil into his hand. When he put his fingers between Geralt’s legs she could see them both tremble with anticipation. “Time for you to clean her up before I let you into her” Iorveth rasped while his fingers started massaging the other man’s tight hole.   
Geralt moaned and moved between Yen’s legs. When his tongue started to thrust into her immediately, she yelped. He licked deep into her, and she could see that he was swallowing all the remaining cum from the elf that he found. She shivered and was breathing heavily. When the elf breached the ring of muscle in Geralt’s ass with his first finger the Witcher moaned into her folds, and the vibrations had her arch her back. With every additional finger this would happen and she finally buried her hand in his hair to have his tongue reach as deep as possible.   
Then the elf slapped Geralt “Enter her. But do not move further.” he snarled and Yen could see that he still had three of his fingers in the Witcher.  
Geralt moved up her body and positioned his already leaking cock at her entrance. Slowly he pushed into her and stopped when he bottomed out. Yen was panting - he was bigger than Iorveth and she had to adapt to his girth first.   
However, her breath stopped short when she saw the elf positioning himself behind the Witcher. She looked into Geralt’s eyes, and she could tell exactly when the Scoia’tael breached him. A sharp intake of breath told her that the elf moved forward and sunk himself to the hilt into him.   
They stayed unmoving for a few moments, anticipation building. Then Iorveth started to move - and Geralt with him.  
Every thrust of the elf would lead to Geralt burying his cock inside her. Iorveth basically fucked her through the proxy of Geralt - the Witcher reduced to a fuck-toy. Geralt started moaning whenever the elf plunged his cock into him, and Yen couldn’t help but urging the elf on. Iorveth’s eye glowed as he steadied himself with one arm on the ground while the other gripped Geralt’s hip and he continued to thrust into him.   
There was no finesse or variation to their bodies movements. Only the shine of sweat on tight muscle and their moans. Iorveth started to speed up after a few minutes, forcing Geralt to to the same and he thrust relentlessly into the other man. Under the multiple sensations of the elf’s cock in his ass hitting his prostate with unfailing precision, and his own cock sheathed in Yen’s hot and wet folds, the Witcher didn't last long despite his usual stamina.   
With a grunt he started shaking, and came after a few more thrusts, shouting his release while he was still pounded by the elf behind him.   
Iorveth didn't come though, and he also didn’t release Geralt from between them but continued to fuck Yen through him. And true to the legends Geralt was hard again after a few minutes. Yen was already close but somehow she just hung there, not really reaching her plateau.   
But when the elf redoubled his efforts, and pushed his hand between her and Geralt starting to rub her clit, she finally felt her body constrict and her spasms took the Witcher with her. With a groan he emptied himself into her for a second time, and when his muscles contracted around Iorveth’s cock, the elf shot his load into him after a few more thrusts.   
They collapsed and Yen suddenly had a Witcher and an elf on top of her. She struggled to breath. Iorveth realized it first and pulled himself and Geralt from her. 

They both nestled around Geralt and their hands started wandering over each other. Yen would sometimes touch Geralt, and then she would touch the elf - it didn’t matter whose skin she felt under her fingers. For a while they remained like this, their deep breaths the only sounds. Then Iorveth got up - with a slight groan - and walked out of her sight. When he came back he had something to drink and a washcloth. Yen thankfully drank a few sips and cleaned herself up. She then turned to Geralt but the elf had already taken care of him. The Witcher was slowly coming back to himself. He grunted in pain, when he sat up. Yen looked in his eyes and saw only her lover in those yellow depths. She smiled “That was quite the ride.”   
Iorveth huffed at that remark. He had his hand on Geralt’s shoulder and was steadying the other man as he drank deeply from the cup he had handed him.   
“Honestly - I’ve never seen something more arousing than the two of you together.” Geralt murmured “I came just from watching - that’s a new one.”   
He turned toward Yen and kissed her softly “You are the most amazing woman.” Yen smiled and hid her face in his neck.  
They stayed there in the cave for a while, talking and resting. An hour before sunrise Yen rose and got dressed. She would have to change into something different before heading to the meeting with the emperor.   
The two men were still lying on the floor, covered in furs and blankets. When Yen left she could see Iorveth’s arm sneak around Geralt’s hips and pulling the other towards him.

She smiled, and left to meet with the most powerful man in the world, to ensure their freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK - that's it for this story. Sorry that Roche was really just a plot device.   
> Hope you enjoyed it.

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter is done. A few more to come.  
> Unfortunately no beta here. So you have to live with my grammar sins. Hope you enjoyed.


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